


Jonesing for a Snack

by Lucivar



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: A stressful amount of sugar, Baking, Christmas Fluff, Costumes, Established Relationship, F/M, FBI Agent Betty Cooper, Humor, Jughead and JB run a cooking show, Jughead is a procrastibaker, Procrastinating, Shower Sex, Vlogger!Jughead, Writer Jughead Jones, murder boards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28183101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucivar/pseuds/Lucivar
Summary: In the weeks leading up to Christmas, Betty is on a case with the FBI and Jughead roams their apartment, left to his own (creative) devices.He decides to bake her a Christmas gift and goes a teensy bit insane.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Jellybean Jones & Jughead Jones
Comments: 45
Kudos: 84
Collections: 8th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees, Home for the HoliDale





	Jonesing for a Snack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redcirce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcirce/gifts), [meditationonbaaal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meditationonbaaal/gifts).



> All the love to **redcirce** and **meditationonbaaal** for all the inspiration and encouragement.  
> The line about Jughead "shredding pillows" is 100% **redcirce.**
> 
> For the "While You Were Sleuthing" category.

When Betty returns to her cheap motel room, she is bone-tired, soggy with muddy slush and exceedingly hungry. She has spent the past sixteen hours participating in a seemingly fruitless manhunt for a dangerous fugitive, cursing all the TV shows that make working for the FBI look _sexy_. 

Her cheap Thai food (from the only place open) arrives after her long, hot shower. Refusing to wear the sketchy, threadbare motel robe, Betty climbs into Jughead’s pyjamas and settles down on the lumpy mattress with her laptop. 

She notices she has a YouTube notification and given there is only one channel to which she subscribes, a small smile forms as she clicks on the link and settles in to watch.

**20th December: A beginner’s guide to framing someone**

JB grins at the camera, dressed in a hideous Christmas sweater and starts with their customary introduction: “Hi and welcome to _Jonesing for a Snack_! I’m JB and this is my brother Jug-,” 

She waves her hand, gesturing to the empty space next to her and snorts, “Yo, Jug, where are you at?”

Sounds of clanging and thumping can be heard off-camera and Betty assumes it’s the love of her life tripping over his feet as he tries to get into frame.

“Why are you dressed like a lumber-sexual?” JB crows in delight, eyes shining as she stares off to the side. Betty adores the look of mischief in JB’s eyes while simultaneously feeling sorry for Jughead. JB is relentless in her teasing of Jughead and Betty often acts as a buffer, mediating their hangry tussles and placating each Jones sibling with snacks. “I mean, I know you get hot for flannel, but now you also have a saw? Does Betty know that you’re stashing inconvenient murder weapons around the house?”

Betty can hear Jughead snicker in the distance, “Of course she knows, JB, she knows everything.”

She can hear the endearment and love saturate his voice and feels warm despite being the embodiment of a human Popsicle thanks to her standing in the slush and sleet all day. She opens up her take-away container of pad Thai and pulls apart the disposable chopsticks. 

JB rolls her eyes elaborately and stares at the camera, “Yeah, knowing her, she probably finds it super hot or something. I bet she goes around saying: “Ohh Juggie, you have _so many_ knives! Tell me what you use them all for, hot stuff!”.” 

JB pulls a face and shoots finger guns at the lens.

Betty giggles and chokes around her mouth of tepid and slimy noodles. _Spot on, JB._

“Yeah, and? What’s your point? I love cooking and Betty likes weapons,” Jughead parries with laughter, “We are the perfect match.”

“Damn, you two are sickeningly cute.” JB crosses her eyes and pokes out her tongue. 

Jughead laughs at this, still not in frame, which Betty has to admit is making her a little sad. It has been two weeks since she has seen him and that is the longest time they’ve ever been apart. If it weren’t for work, she would be going utterly insane for missing him. As it is, she sleeps in his S t-shirt every night and she “borrowed” his old Serpent jacket for the duration of her case. 

“I have the **best** idea!” His voice is laced with excitement, simmering like water ready to bubble. She loves it and loves him. 

“Have you quit writing to take up wood carving?” JB asks drolly and then leans over to whisper conspiratorially to the camera, “Jughead has been procrastinating, Betty, did you know?”

“Noooo! Betty, don’t listen to that nark!” Jughead’s whine reaches her and makes her smile despite how much she misses him. “I’m still writing!”

“Could have fooled me, bro,” JB smirks, all casual nonchalance and effortless cool as she inspects her black nails in front of the camera. “I haven’t seen you touch your laptop since Betty left.”

Betty makes a little sad noise, knowing that Jughead struggles to reign in his creativity for the sake of efficiency when he’s feeling untethered. She knows that her presence grounds him.

“Don’t you want to hear about my idea, JB?” Jughead’s voice inches into petulant younger sibling territory, which makes Betty snicker given he’s many years older than JB.

“Okay, I’ll _bite_ ,” JB turns to the camera and winks before eyeing Jughead expectantly.

He _finally_ walks into frame and the moment Betty sees him, she wants to lick him all over. He’s in a singlet (in late December) and he’s holding up a large wooden rectangular frame to the camera, which makes his biceps look really defined. Plus, it seems like he has been doing some physical labour, so maybe he’d taste a little salty? 

Anyway, the point is, she’s into it. His general appearance. All of him. 

“I’m making a present for Betty for Christmas!” Jughead grins adorably at the camera and then raises two fingers to his lips, kissing them. 

He reaches his fingertips out to the lens and whispers, “Miss you, Betts.” 

She mirrors the motion, as if to catch his kiss. 

_Four days, then I’m home._

“Jughead, come on, this is for public consumption, seriously. It’s not your personal channel.”

Jughead flips her the bird and she retaliates by trying to kick him in the stomach. 

“Do you want to know what I’m doing, or not?” Jughead says loftily, shaking his frame to shield him from JB’s wild roundhouses. 

JB nods and pats Jughead in a manner resembling a parent with a small child who has made a very confusing and indecipherable macaroni diorama as part of a school project. 

“Oh, I am sure she’ll be super pleased with her… frame? Box?” She folds her arms and leans back. “Dude, are you building her a trap so she can’t leave you again?”

JB turns to the camera and says, “Betty, I joke! I know you’re working super hard right now. Hopefully the sight of your long-term boyfriend making a fool of himself provides you with Christmas joy!” 

“Am I making a fool of myself?” Jughead asks curiously. He’s got that fervour in his eyes that he gets whenever he spirals obsessively into his projects. 

“You’re somehow in a grubby singlet, a flannel and your beanie and you have wood chips strewn over your carpet…” JB gestures wildly with her arms. “You’re beyond a “fool” and entering “hot mess” territory.”

“At least I’m hot.” Jughead’s smug attitude makes her swoon.

_Mmm yes, can confirm._

JB shoves him playfully. “You should actually stop planning such weird, elaborate presents and write. That’s what Betty would want for Christmas.”

“No, I want to do this,” Jughead insists, jutting out his jaw defiantly. 

JB cackles and rubs her hands together. “Yeah, I know, you’ve got that hectic gleam in your eye that spells an impending psychotic break. I want to see this. Okay so what’s the plan?”

Jughead grins, “I don’t want to give it away on camera, because it’s a surprise… but I will say to our viewers, follow along and the reveal will happen Christmas day!”

He turns to JB and pokes his head through the frame. To Betty, it looks like it could hold a large poster. She wonders what he’s going to make.

“So, I am going to kick us off by making large swathes of gingerbread,” Jughead tells her. 

“Oooh, I am intrigued,” JB sings gleefully, “How much gingerbread, may I ask?”

"Like, a Canadian fucktonne," Jughead jokes.

“Demonetised!” JB hollers through a curled hand, imitating a megaphone, and then claps her hands together. "Ladies and gentlemen, he's gone full metric! It’s a precursor to his imminent spiral!" 

Jughead holds the frame above his head like a prize and yells, "For science!"

Damn, she loves these idiots. 

Then Betty watches a two-minute montage of Jughead and JB baking an alarming amount of gingerbread, looking increasingly manic as the time goes on. 

~~~

 **BettyCooper:** JB, you crack me up so much! I love your antics. This did provide me with some much-needed joy! It’s the worst weather here! Sleet. Gross. Lucky I have a crown beanie to match my love <3 Speaking of, Jug, JB is right, you so don’t have to make me an elaborate present, I just can’t wait to spend time with you! Love you, counting the days x x x 

~~~

**21st December: A refresher course in blood splatter analysis**

“Welcome back to _Jonesing for a snack_! Today, we are making toffee!” JB cackles wickedly. “This is part two of a five part series which will remain named “Dial M for Masterpiece” until Betty gets home from work and can enjoy the aforementioned gift.”

Jughead walks in to frame and Betty snorts a laugh at his attire: he’s dressed in FBI tactical wear and has aviators on. It’s been a long time since she’s seen Jughead in law enforcement uniform and it makes her feel hot all over. 

JB, naturally, thinks Jughead’s outfit is the most hilarious thing ever and is doubled over with laughter, gasping and pointing at him. 

Betty can tell by Jughead’s look that he’s biting the inside of his mouth to prevent himself from smiling at his sister’s response. 

When JB comes up for air, she gasps, "So man, can you tell us why you're dressed as an FBI agent?”

Jughead stares intently into the camera as if eying a particularly gnarly piece of evidence and whips off his aviators in one fluid movement. It makes Betty giggle in delight to imagine how many times he has likely practised this in front of the mirror in order to perfect it. 

His eyes are piercing and she melts a little at the intensity of his gaze, jiggling her legs in frustration of him being so _unreachable._

JB continues, “You know that your girlfriend is hot for shabby writers, so do you think this will finally turn her off your sorry ass?” JB turns back to the camera and says with the utmost sincerity, “Sorry Betty, you know that I think you’re a deadly angel."

Jughead folds his arms and leans back, smirking as JB peppers him with incessant questions and theories. "Oh, oh, oh! I’ve got it! You’re a stripper! Writing not working out for you anymore, huh?" 

Betty can see Jughead’s shoulders shake in his effort not to laugh. Her eyes are glued to his gorgeous face and she is just willing for him to lose it on camera. She wants to partake in his beautiful joy. 

JB needles him, resorting to poking his arms annoyingly and repeatedly. "Are they tear-away pants, though? Dude? Bro? Jug? The viewers will totally wanna know. Give them something to dream about!"

Jughead’s face splits into a gorgeous crooked grin and Betty feels her heart thud in her chest. 

“Well, they’ll have to keep dreaming,” he sasses and then pulls out a pound bag of sugar. “JB, today, you and I are going to make a vat worth of toffee.”

JB hums, closing her eyes dreamily, hands coming together in a reverent prayer position. “You’re speaking the language of the Joneses. Describe to me the volume of this toffee extravaganza.”

Jughead folds his arms over his chest. “Full on B-grade horror-movie blood level.”

JB’s eyes widen comically and she makes an awed noise. “Oooh, colour me fascinated. Are we going to dye it for Christmas?”

Jughead’s smile is cheeky when he says, “Oh yeah, this is all going to be red toffee.”

Then Betty watches a one-minute montage of the Jones siblings making vats of toffee to the song “Sugar Sugar” by Josie and the Pussycats. Betty eats her soggy pizza in incredulity, lamenting their separation while being astounded by the sheer extent of their creative madness. 

She loves these gorgeous, artistic fools. 

Once they are done, Jughead and JB sample their dyed-red hot liquid. 

“Damn that’s good toffee,” JB proclaims, chuffed. “Betty will love it.”

She pulls two baking trays covered in paper and says, “So… how do you want to do this splatter effect? Have you ever done this before?”

Jughead smirks and shakes his head. “Nah, but let’s just try dropping it from a great height, okay? Like the pitch drop but way faster.”

JB somehow produces a step-ladder and sets it up in their apartment’s tiny kitchen. She climbs the rungs with heavy steps in her floral Docs. Jughead eyes his sister and comments drolly, “Don’t splash me by accident or on purpose, JB.”

She pokes her tongue out and holds her hand to accept the handle of the saucepan. 

“Are you ready?” JB asks, taking a deep, steadying breath. 

Jughead grips onto the ladder to support her and quips, “Nope and I think Betty might have a heart attack when she sees this video.”

“Ahh,” JB finagles, “That’s the plan then, is it? To do something so poorly so that Betty comes home to clean up your literal mess? Then she vows never to leave you again for more than a day just in case you shred the pillows in her absence?”

“I should shred the pillows,” Jughead muses, lips quirking, “Why do we have so many of them?”

“If Betty were here she would smack you with one of those pillows for even daring to suggest it,” JB sasses him.

“Mmm hot.” 

JB raps Jughead on the head with the wooden spoon and cackles at his squawking sound. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes before slamming the aviators back on like safety goggles. 

“Just go for it, you menace,” he growls impatiently. 

Betty watches in morbid fascination as JB pitches large splashes of toffee on to the trays below to Jughead’s encouraging and cautious yelps. 

The whole kitchen looks like a crime scene by the time they finish and she has tears of laughter running down her face. 

~~~

 **BettyCooper:** This is so much fun to watch! I wish I were there!!! What are you two making? I can’t wait to see it all come together! Also, Juggie, do the pants actually tear off? Interested parties totally want to know ;) Love you and miss you x x x 

~~~ 

**22nd December: Intro to String Theory**

“Hey you’ve got JB and this is _Jonesing for a snack_! Today, my brother has decided that cooking is so dangerous that he’s going to dress in a HAZMAT suit!” JB laughs and drags Jughead on screen. Betty snorts around her cup of dishwater-flavoured tea as she sees him in a HAZMAT suit complete with a respirator mask. 

His voice is muffled when he says, “It’s because I am performing a very dangerous feat and I need all the protection I can get. It’s called: cooking with my sister. I got burned with the toffee yesterday and I’m taking all the necessary precautions.”

JB smirks and angles the camera to the pink and red coloured sugar crystals drying out on the stove. “Such a diva. It’s doesn’t look that hazardous.”

Jughead waves his arms about erratically. “I’m about to make… candy cane ropes. It’s about to get hot in here with all that bubbling sugar.”

“Yeah he’s fully _cooking_ , Betty, if you catch my drift.”

JB turns to Jughead and jokes, “You better hope we don’t end up on some watch list because you decided you wanted to tempt Betty with more than just your culinary skills. Does she really find your costumes a turn on?”

Jughead pulls off the respirator and his lips twitch into a grin. “She’s never seen these, JB, I bought them the other day.”

She nods indulgently. “No doubt at three in the morning after binge watching CSI or something?”

Jughead snorts and shrugs, essentially admitting she is right. JB grins, “Do you have a costume for me?”

“A body bag.”

JB looks thrilled. “Oh yes please!” 

She runs off-camera and then there is a fade transition to JB and Jughead standing side by side in their costumes. 

Unsurprisingly, JB wears the body bag with a delighted grin on her face, arms flailing out the armholes she has ripped into the sides. For once, she seems to be actively helping Jughead, shuffling around the kitchen preparing all the ingredients: sugar, corn syrup, food colouring and peppermint extract. Betty laughs at their ridiculous expressions and the poses they strike as they move around the kitchen in unison, as if they are performing an over-choreographed 90’s boy band video clip. 

She watches as they set the temperature on the oven and line the trays. JB and Jughead pore over the saucepan as they make the candy, melting the sugar and sticking too many thermometers in the roiling liquid. 

“It must be perfect,” Jughead mutters with a fanaticism reminiscent of Evelyn Evernever and Betty snorts. 

JB whoops and pumps her fist as the temperature rises and yells, “We have reached hard crack stage! Yes, the best kind of crack!”

Jughead swats at JB playfully before using his Hazmat gloves to take the saucepan from the stove and JB mixes in the peppermint oil, the body bag rustling and crinkling around her comically. The separate the mixture and dye each half, one red, one white. 

Betty smiles at the synchronicity of the Jones siblings rolling out the mixture into long, extremely thin ropes and cutting them with scissors. They twist the colours together to the background song “Twist and Shout” by The Beatles. JB abandons her post frequently to dance in the background, gracing the camera with some uncoordinated shuffling, laughing her head off as Jughead works manically in the foreground, trying to twist all the candy before it solidifies. 

The ending shot is one of a highly dishevelled Jughead presenting his extremely long candy ropes to camera with a frazzled grin and JB performing the swing in the background, heedless of his struggles. 

~~~

 **BettyCooper:** Those candy canes look like shivs. Or Narwhal horns. What are you using all this for? I can’t wait to try these weird candy cane ropes! You two are so clever and creative. JB, I must get a photo of you in the body bag for my colleagues, they would love it! But really, what are you making? It’s so elaborate… The costumes really brighten my day, so thank you! Forever love x 

~~~

**23rd December: Chromatology 101**

“I’m loving your vibes Jughead. You’ve got the intensity of “A Beautiful Mind” crossed with overindulgence of Lady Gaga’s costume designer and I’m digging it,” JB pronounces loudly, “It’s like I’m watching your breakdown in technicolour clarity and I’m here to tell you; I’ve got you bro.”

Jughead looks up from the dozens of tiny bowls filled with coloured icing and smiles at her in relief, “You’ll help?”

JB snorts and swats his arm playfully. “Oh god no, I’m here to eat and make fun of you.”

“Figures,” Jughead snarks and rolls his eyes, getting back to his mixing. 

"But look at all these colours, bud! This is an _unprecedented_ amount of icing," JB declares with mirth, her expression maniacal. "Oh this is so cute, you've used Betty's label maker to give them names."

She picks up a bowl of pink icing and says, "This one is called "Totally Real Snake Facts, I Promise". Dad will love that one."

Jughead smirks at his elaborate set up of pipettes and coloured dyes, but doesn’t look up. “I doubt dad would understand what a real snake fact is, even if it bit him.”

“Especially if it bit him,” JB agrees solemnly as she peers over all the little ceramic bowls, her lips twitching in amusement. 

“Aww,” JB croons, “You’ve called this one “A snack for my snack”, and it’s Betty’s signature shade of mint green. That’s disgustingly cute, I might just puke.”

“I love her, JB,” Jughead states matter-of-factly and it makes Betty’s heart sing. “She’s the best.”

JB sighs melodramatically and leans across the bench top, careful not to upset the bowls of sugary goodness. “You two give me such unrealistic expectations for love.”

“Is it unrealistic if it exists in real life?” Jughead asks rhetorically and uses a small teaspoon to mix his new shade of a lurid violet. When JB gives him an arched look he holds the bowl up to the camera and says, “This is Conspiracy Theory purple.”

JB hoots, “I fucking love it!” She leans across the table and picks up the large bowl of white icing, “This one is called: Deep Plotlines That I Use As Seasoning. Wow, this is a cry for help, isn’t it dude?”

Jughead looks up from his home chemistry set and says, “This is a cry for help. Can you make me some sheets of thinly-rolled fondant?”

JB heaves a put-upon sigh. “Ugh fine! Can I make fun of you the whole time, regardless?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking my permission,” Jughead smirks at her. 

JB grins, “You’re right, that was silly of me… reams of fondant it is!”

~~~

 **BettyCooper:** Oh my god, those names are amazing! I love hot pink “The Fuck Bunker” and green ones (the mint one and the bright green “S&M = Smut and Mysteries”) the most! Sad you are going to probably use mostly white! I imagine you're making some sort of Christmas thing? Why do you need so many colours though? I am super curious… Love you so much x x x 

~~~

**24th December: These sugary delights have delicious ends**

The fourth part of the series opens up on JB’s face, super close to camera. She whispers in a put-upon British accent, “Welcome, fellow travellers to _Jonesing for a Snack_. This is video evidence of the weird anxiety rituals of my insane brother when his love is out of town.”

She flips the camera around and whispers, “And here we see a wild Jughead in his natural habitat, making snow angels in icing sugar he accidentally spilled on the kitchen floor…” Her voice is dripping with schadenfreude when she points out, “He's lost his goddamn mind."

“Have not!” Jughead complains, lying on the ground, covered in white powder. Betty can see the sugar catching on his unshaven face, giving him a powdery beard. 

“You look like a hairy doughnut, bro,” JB quips, “Go have a shower and we can start to put together this masterpiece.”

Jughead props himself up on his elbows, and eyes her with a wide, desperate look, “What do I do with all this sugar?”

JB makes a scoffing noise off-camera and says, “Because I am a literal angel, I’ll do you a favour and sweep it up. You’ll have to mop later.”

Jughead nods at her, though his eyes are glazed and unfocused. “Okay I’ll shower.”

Once he walks off, JB leans into the camera and smirks, "This is how you get ants."

The video cuts back to Jughead and JB standing side by side, and Betty is pleased to see Jughead looking less unhinged, though the whites of his eyes are still luminous as he stares unblinkingly into the camera. 

“And now,” he whispers, voice tinged with a delicious taste of villainy, “We build.”

He holds up some sheets and a pen. “These are rice paper sheets and an icing pen, I will be writing on this, while JB starts the construction.”

“We have to lay down this large gingerbread sheet in the frame.” He holds up the frame and points to the slats of wood that strut the back of the frame, “And you can see that we added more structural integrity, because a fucktonne of gingerbread is alarmingly heavy. As it is, this giant frame of gingerbread will need to remain flat because it will fall apart if we actually hang it up.”

He points to a distressingly large pyramid of wrapped candies on the benchtop behind him and says, “Plus, we need a border for this frame. And Betty loves Twix.”

JB nods and looks at him, “It’s good that you’re going to let me do the people’s faces, because otherwise Betty won’t recognise the characters that we are drawing on the fondant.”

“Hey!” Jughead exclaims, “Just because all I know how to draw are stick figures!”

JB pats his shoulder indulgently, “You have other creative talents, Jughead-,”

“Oh yeah?”

“And I’m sure you’ll discover them one day,” JB finishes primly.

“Fuck off, JB,” Jughead jokes and slumps over the counter. “I’m going to start working, or we will be here all night.”

“You’ll be here all night regardless, waiting up for Betty like a puppy at the door. Whimpering.” JB says reasonably and Jughead throws a Twix at her head. 

~~~

 **BettyCooper:** This is an INSANE amount of candy! Also, Jughead, next time please wait for me to get home to make icing sugar snow angels. I’ll help you clean up, promise :) Looking forward to seeing you! On the train now, counting down the minutes. 

~~~

**25th December: Dial M for…**

Betty returns from her two-week long mission in the early hours of Christmas morning. She enters as quietly as she can, despite suspecting that Jughead is likely to be awake and watching some dark Christmas movie. She is surprised to note that her boyfriend is not in the living room in front of the TV, curled around a bowl of popcorn and she pauses for a moment in the darkness of the apartment, sighing heavily. 

Betty notices a soft light streaming from underneath the door to the second bedroom and figures that Jughead must be awake and “in the zone” with his writing. She smiles at the thought. After this whole week of receiving hilariously stressful messages from JB (with pictures attached) of Jughead’s spiral into sugar-glazed insanity, she’s thrilled that he has finally summoned up the mental strength to write.

She decides not to interrupt, knowing how hard it is for him to find his creative spark in combination with focused discipline, and would feel terrible if she fractured that delicate balance.

Silently, she sneaks into the bedroom and deposits her workbag on the floor. She catches a look of herself in the bedroom mirror and shudders at her waif-like and exhausted appearance. As much as she wants to rub herself all over Jughead (he would be so warm and taste like sugar), right now she is covered in crusted mud and smells like she has worn the same clothes for a week.

Once in the bathroom, Betty hums in anticipatory pleasure as she turns on the hot stream of water. Today was exceptionally long and exhausting, and she needs to soak the cold from her marrow.

Betty gasps as the jet of steaming water hits her. It’s a stark contrast to the iciness of her skin, but once the initial shock of the temperature change wears off she hears herself purring as she ducks her head under the spray. Soon, Betty feels like herself again in the massaging warmth of the shower, and she stays under the stream for quite some time enjoying watching the condensation form on the bathroom mirror and the billows of steam rising in the tiny bathroom. 

She's starting to feel happy and relaxed, lathering her body in the delicious smelling soaps of her own shower (finally!). Motel showers are always scungy and Betty despises it when their slimy shower curtains reach out and touch her, as if possessed by creepy, grabby spirits. 

She feels a slight draught in the room. 

Turning her head towards the door, her lips quirk into a smile as Jughead enters dressed in dark blue. 

Because he's a blur through the foggy glass she rubs her hand over the shower door and notes in amusement he's dressed in his ridiculous FBI uniform complete with a pair of aviators.

“Betty Cooper, you're under arrest,” he announces with a sharp, authoritative voice, “For intent to clean without first getting dirty.”

She giggles because she’s one hundred per cent certain that he would have workshopped that line prior to her arrival. What a cute dork.

He lowers his steamed-up aviators to stare directly into her eyes. Betty feels delicious thrill jolt through her as his piercing blue gaze rakes over her naked form.

“Are you going to read my rights to me?” Betty teases through the glass and Jughead takes his sunglasses off in a smooth movement and throws them on the counter.

“It's too hard to see anything in here through those,” he scoffs, breaking character. He turns back to her with smouldering eyes. “Yeah, I’ll read you your rights.”

“You have the right to remain completely naked, you have the right to wake me up in the middle of the night whenever you want something extra-,” Betty snorts at the ridiculous wink he sends her way, “And you have the right to interrupt me while I'm writing especially after you've arrived home after our longest time apart.”

The tone at the end of his sentence is petulant and Betty has to bite the inside of her mouth to stop herself from grinning openly. 

Betty replies, “Oh Juggie, I'm sorry, I thought that you were in the flow for the first time in two weeks! I didn’t want to be the person to break that!”

“Fuck that,” Jughead declares, “I've been dying to see you. For some reason a few weeks feels like forever? The only reason I was writing because I was struck by inspiration and I wanted to stay up to see you.”

Betty places a hand over a chest and smiles warmly at him. It's amazing how loved this man can make her feel after ten years of being together.

“I love you and I missed you too,” she whispers through the glass putting her hands up against the shower door. Jughead follows suit, placing his hands on the outside of the glass, mirroring hers.

She wants to drown in the deep look in his eyes. And bite those soft lips.

“So ... are those pants actually tear off?” she asks casually, tilting her head to the side, “You never told me.”

“Who wants to know?” The corner of Jughead's lips curve up as he stares at her through a raised eyebrow expression.

Betty shrugs in feigned nonchalance, “Just interested parties.”

“Interested parties of one?” Jughead grins smugly, “Just one sexy blonde with the hots for guys in uniform?”

“Tearaway uniform,” Betty clarifies. A flash of amusement crosses Jughead's face at her words.

He leans in, lips inches from hers, separated by the laminated glass. “Oh yeah?” 

Betty loves the stirring look in his eyes. She swallows heavily and nods, oblivious to the hot spray running down her back because her whole body is alight with a fiery sensation as she stares at him.

She watches as his hips tilt against the glass and he croons, “Oh yeah, Betts? Or should I say, Special Agent Cooper?

She hears herself release a pathetic little whimper. Jughead smirks, “Now, I don't want to pull rank on you, baby, but I'm an extra Special Agent.”

“Here for one night only?” Betty quips in response and Jughead snorts. “Here for a good time but not a long time? Here bring me to justice?”

Jughead chuckles, “Is that what we are calling it now?”

Betty nods insistently, biting her lip in amusement.

Jughead's eyebrow twitches and he complains, “Come on Betts, I'm trying to play a part here! I thought you would enjoy this.”

She giggles because he is hopelessly adorable. “Of course I love it, but that's because I love you. I'm not attracted to men in FBI uniforms. Thankfully. I love you in whatever you wear… or don’t wear…”

Jughead curves his hips against the glass and Betty feels herself reach out as if to touch him. He grins smugly as her fingertips scrabble uselessly against the shower door.

“Come in,” she cajoles in a sugary tone. “Rip the pants off and join me. It's hot in here.”

She revels in the subsequent shudder that runs through Jughead's body as he watches her. She takes her time, tilting her head back into the spray and running her hands through her hair and down over her naked, wet body.

Jughead moans, a breathy and desperate sound, his hands braced against the glass door.

“This isn't fair,” he complains, “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Get the pants off,” she orders, ignoring his cute little pout. “And then do me. I'm nice.”

Jughead chuckles and shakes his head. “Nice? What a banal word to describe what you are, Betty Cooper. You’re relentless, formidable, tenacious, impossibly generous and sweet, and might I deign to add, insanely stunning. I just love you so much.”

“Juggie, I love you too,” Betty sighs and then pitches her voice low and sultry, “Now tear of those pants get in here before I do it for you.”

Jughead rocks his body against the glass and Betty stifles a squeak. The look in his eyes is one of heated anticipation; “Oh you like that, do you?”

He takes off his fake FBI Kevlar vest and Betty relishes the sound of the Velcro releasing as he throws the offending garment into the corner of the room.

Betty watches, panting, mouth devoid of saliva as he rakes his hands over his body, touching himself in pleasure. “That’s so good,” he murmurs, watching her with dark eyes, “Are you sure you don't want some of this?”

She tries to push open the door of the shower, but experiences limited success as Jughead holds it down and leans against it, taunting her.

“Stop this! I want to touch you,” she accuses, raking her hands through her hair in frustration. “I'm going to start teasing to you now.”

“Do it!” he challenges, eyebrows crooking up as he stares at her through the steaming glass. “I'm sure you'll crack first.”

Betty smirks, “I just spent the last week bearing witness to your spiral out of control on your YouTube channel. I think I've the fortitude to withstand your torture.”

“Hmm… is that right?” Jughead responds with a sultry bite to his lip.

“Yeah,” she responds defiantly.

“Okay then,” Jughead nods, head falling forward slightly so that his hair covers his eyes. When he looks up at her through his unruly black locks, she feels a liquid pulse shoot through her and stifles the moan that threatens to give her away.

Betty places one hand on the door for purchase and runs the other one down her body, over her breasts to tease at her nipple. She releases an elaborate moan and watches in vindication as Jughead shudders against the glass.

“So not fair,” he hisses, watching her through dark eyes.

“Just open the door, step in, you can have your hands and your mouth all over me,” Betty whispers her sweet siren song.

Jughead smirks and shakes his head. He starts to slowly unbutton his navy shirt with one hand, whilst maintaining intense and direct eye contact.

“It's nice of you to unwrap my Christmas gift for me,” Betty remarks, running her hands down over her stomach to brush against her folds. Jughead watches the tracing of her fingertips, licking his lips expectantly.

“Oh, I'm not your Christmas gift,” Jughead whispers as he slides the shirt from his slender shoulders and lets it flutter to the ground. “You know that I made you something outrageous.”

“I hope it's not a mural of me made out of gingerbread,” Betty responds sardonically, “I would feel weird eating myself.”

“It's only weird because it's an awkward position for you,” Jughead parries, as quick as ever, and she watches as his gaze flicks to where her hand moves against her slicken pussy and says with casual nonchalance, “But I can do it for you… let me run my hands up your thighs and taste you.”

She moans aloud this time, hand clenching against the glass.

“I'm going to slide my finger inside,” Betty taunts, “I'm going to imagine it's yours.”

Betty watches as Jughead swallows hard, clearly deliberating on his position outside the shower. 

He shivers.

“Oh baby, are you cold?” she pouts, attempting his teasing tone of voice. “I’ll warm you up. I'm hot on the outside and the inside.”

“Fuck,” Jughead swears and then grins at her and wagging his finger. “I can't Betts, I've still got pants on.”

“Tear them off. Do it. Interested parties want to see,” She dares him, gripping her fingers on the glass.

“I suppose it would be incredibly rude of me to deny interested parties,” Jughead intones solemnly and then in one swift move tears his stupid pants off. 

_Um, hello._

“Damn,” Betty swears and then claps her hand over her mouth as Jughead’s move reveals his naked body, erection jutting out proudly.

Jughead's head snaps up and he gives her a rakish grin. She can almost hear his thoughts, as if projected to her, _You like that do you?_

She nods, unable to deny how much she wants him and Jughead takes this as his cue, throwing open the door and capturing her in his arms. The skin on skin contact is delicious, and Betty feels his arms entangle around her as he pushes them under the hot spray, taking her mouth.

The hot water spills and thunders around them, the sound pounding in her ears as her heart catches in her throat, and Betty pushes back, devouring Jughead’s mouth in equal measure. 

She can feel the purr of pleasure vibrate through his torso, hum through their connected lips and pulls at him, desiring to consume. 

“Ahh Betts,” he growls possessively between messy, open-mouthed kisses. 

She feels shivery; his hands brushing every inch of her naked skin with maddening softness as his mouth plies hers open. Her brain vaguely acknowledges the beauty of water rivulets that curl and cascade over his chest but all she can hear is her internal chanting of _more more more…_

Jughead runs his fingers down the side of her body to caresses her hip and her thighs as he hoists one of her legs up around his waist presses her insistently against the tiles.

She hisses into his mouth as the feeling of the icy tiles assaults her back, arching away from the sensation and further into his arms. He chuckles delightedly. 

“You’re mine.” His voice is sibilant and tortuous and it weaves through her mind, ensnaring her.

Jughead’s fingers slide from her waist to brush her inner thigh, and she angles her hips in wordless encouragement. He grins knowingly and indulges her to dance his fingertips lightly across her wet folds. She whimpers pathetically, nibbling on his lip insistently, pushing for him to move faster. 

She sees the curve of his mouth: an insufferable, self-satisfied moue as he traces little circles around her clit, clearly enjoying her desperate movements and animalistic sounds. 

He chuckles and arrests her with a molten gaze, the hot water streaming over his face as he dips his fingertips into her dripping quim, causing her to squirm against the unyielding tiled wall. 

“I like you like this,” Jughead murmurs, pressing messy kisses down her jawline as he flexes his fingers inside her, taunting her. 

“Unable to move?” Betty hisses back, trying to push herself over his fingers, scratching his shoulder blades in frustration when he withdraws, smirking. “Ugh you’re so infuriating.”

“Thank you, Betts,” Jughead says candidly, kissing her furious pout with a sparkling look in his dark eyes. 

She bites his lip and glares at him in challenge. 

Jughead’s eyes flash and he thrusts two fingers into her, snarling in response.

Betty chokes at the feeling of his fingers curling inside her, and she loves that he’s panting, his eyelashes fluttering against his pale cheek, erection pulsing heavily against her thigh. His desperation makes her feel powerful and beautiful. 

“I missed you so much.” He curls his fingers into her at a rhythmic pace, kissing her between her breathy cries as he slowly renders her into a trembling puddle of lust.

“I missed you too,” she gasps, head tipped back against the wall as she trembles.

“Fuck, you are gorgeous,” Jughead praises is he thrusts his fingers into her again, “Every time I see you, I'm astounded by how beautiful you are.”

“You too,” she bites back, her own fingertips digging into his shoulders as he pushes into her. He holds her flush to his body so she can't angle away and take control of the pace. He knows her too well to take his chances in a physical altercation, which makes her throw out her adoration like a challenge; “You're so pretty it makes me crazy. Also, how dare you look so good in cheap FBI knock-offs! It hurts my eyes to look at you.”

“How do you think I feel when I see you in uniform?” he snarls, holding his fingers deep inside her clutching pussy as she grinds down on his palm seeking more friction. 

“Tell me,” Betty demands, as his fingers press deliciously in her again. She can feel how close she is and needs _more._

Jughead fists his other hand into her wet hair, holding her head back so he can lick and suck at her throat, taking his fingers from her so he can trace them around her clit. “It makes me want to mess you up.” 

He couples this admission by thrusting his fingers back inside her and Betty comes with the screech, catching too much water in her mouth.

Jughead hisses in pleasure at her reaction. He moves his fingers gently inside her as the aftershock of the orgasm ripples through her, and she’s desperate for running her hands wildly down his body to seek his erection. 

“Yes, yes, yes, I've missed you,” Betty chants as Jughead tenses underneath her, positioning his cock at her slicken entrance.

Betty runs her hands up and down his back pressing and massaging at his muscles, coaxing him inside. “My vibrator just doesn't cut it.”

Jughead snorts a laugh, lips twisting into an arrogant grin as he slides his length into her, groaning in pleasure at the sensation. “Ahh, you feel so good,” he murmurs, voice choked and rough.

“So do you,” she returns with a manic edge to her flirtatious tone, rolling her hips to increase the contact. She feels Jughead’s cock throb inside her and moans frantically.

He pulls out slightly so he can thrust into her again, hard, pushing her back against the shower wall. Betty mewls at the combination of cold and hot sensations that ripple over her body.

“Your vibrator can't do that,” Jughead quips, as if she has serious plans to replace him with an inanimate object and he must pitch his positive attributes to remain a contender. 

“No,” she chokes out as he drives into her again, gripping her hips tightly. She runs her hands all over his torso in worship. 

The look in his eyes is one of pure adoration. 

Betty loves this combination of Jughead: hot and demanding yet simultaneously soft and sweet. She feels the thrill run through her and she thinks that he belongs to her. “Nothing compares to you.”

Jughead kisses her breathlessly is the water pours down around them and she remains filled with his cock, struggling in abject desperation to increase the pressure, the intensity. She can taste the water in the air, the humidity in Jughead’s breath and feels her own wetness coating her inner thighs.

“Nothing compares to you.” Jughead repeats and nips gently at her lips as he increases the cadence of his thrusts, fucking her with a dark, glorious look in his eyes. 

Betty is aware she's speaking in tongues, singing her passion and awe of him as her world narrows to the singular feeling of his rigid cock filling her. She feels wild she throws her head back in abandon, an adoring litany of _yes yes yes_ escaping her lips as he drives into her with exquisite precision.

“I love you so much Betty, I love that you’re mine,” he groans, wet hair sticking adorably to his face is he holds her tightly in his arms taking her to that jagged edge of pleasure.

“Betts, I'm close,” Jughead hisses, fathomless eyes boring into hers. She releases a shuddering moan, feeling his cock thicken inside of her.

She digs her fingernails into his shoulders and cries her release she feels the cresting wave course through her body, all that pent-up frustration dissipating in her breathless, satiated _thank yous_.

Jughead follows her with a snarl, burying his face into her neck as he comes, thrusting into her to ride out his orgasm, his hot breath curling against her ear.

They remain entwined, gasping, while the shower water runs over them.

He pulls her into his arms and kisses her, lips gracing every inch of her exhausted face.

“It’s nice to be home,” she whispers and his eyes sparkle with joy.

“I’ve been going crazy without you,” Jughead confesses (as if she hasn’t seen the daily video evidence) cupping her cheeks with his hand and running his thumb along her jawline in a tender gesture. 

“Me too.”

After the shower (Betty kicks Jughead out so that she can wash her hair in peace) they dress in matching pyjamas, fluffy socks and robes and make their way to the kitchen. Betty switches on the kettle and sighs in content. 

Her stomach rumbles, an avid reminder that she failed to eat dinner on her way back home, eager as she was to shower and slide into bed next to her love.

Jughead snorts softly by her side. “That almost sounds like my levels of ravenousness, Betts,” he remarks, raising an eyebrow.

“I am rather peckish,” she notes and starts rummaging through the cupboard doors to see if there are any snacks. Surprisingly, the kitchen cupboards are bare. “You didn't go shopping?”

“I used all our groceries to make that monstrosity of confection,” Jughead confesses, his lips twitching. “Did you want an early Christmas present?”

Betty looks at the clock on the oven and folds her arms, smiling. “Technically we are right on time. Yes Forsythe, I want to see this insane creation of gingerbread that you've been working on for the past week.”

Jughead’s face lights up, complete with puppy-dog eyes of excitement and Betty feels like a veritable kid in the candy store as she takes his proffered hand and follows him to the second bedroom.

“I can't wait for you to see it,” he says, excitement lacing his tone. “I promise you that it's not a mural of you. I would never claim to capture something so perfect with baking ingredients.”

Better giggles and rocks up on to her tiptoes to kiss his nose lightly. He wrinkles it under her lips and grins.

“Okay here goes,” he states and pushes the door to his study open. 

What Betty sees takes her breath away. 

Jughead worked tirelessly to construct a replica of the first murder board they ever made as a couple, the one of Jason Blossom. Entirely out of Christmas-inspired candy.

Jason, cartoonish in anime style (as is JB’s preference) looks sullenly at them from his fondant placard. Cheryl is covered in what looks like edible glitter and JB has drawn devil horns on Penelope. Fittingly, Clifford has black pits for eyes. 

Jason sits at the centre of a complex web of red candy cane “string” – and now Betty knows why they rolled the pieces so thin. She wants to touch it but fears it will shatter under her fingertips because it is so finely spun. 

JB and Jughead decorated the board liberally with fake toffee blood that shines like glass, and formed pyramids of “jingle jangle” around the board, creating swirls of sugar crystals leading to Clifford as the focal point. 

It’s a work of art; an insane, slice-one’s-ear-off-in-madness edible masterpiece and Betty loves it. Her eyes shine in adoration as she takes in the details. 

Jughead even created Jason's car out of fondant and piping icing, complete with towering, glittery flames and constructed all their case documents out of rice paper sheets, stacked and glued with white icing to the gingerbread backing. 

Betty notices Jughead standing by watching her expression, waiting.

“Oh my god, Juggie! This is incredible!” She exclaims, spinning around to stare at him, “What an astonishing gift! I can't believe you put so much time and effort into baking me a murder board! What a gorgeous reminder of our first case together as a couple...”

She reaches out to take his hands in hers, “I'm just so overwhelmed! This is unbelievably beautiful. You're so clever and brilliant. I love you.”

Jughead looks supremely smug as she reaches up to kiss him on the lips, working his mouth open with her own so that their tongues dance together in a hot, desperate entanglement.

“I'm really glad that my procrastination was worth it,” He gasps against her lips. Betty leans back on her heels and rubs her nose against his in a little Eskimo kiss.

She turns back to the murder board to admire it; “There are so many redheads on this board... it's a wonder you had enough red food dye! What did you call the red icing again?”

Jughead's lips curl up as he answers, “Man vs Wild aka Archie vs Bear.”

She places a hand to her heart and whispers, “You are so talented. I'm so lucky to have you.”

“You don't think it's weird?”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Of course not! It's the definition of perfect. I love the way that you've shown Jason's death in candy - it's so beautiful. I can't wait to eat it all!”

“We can start now?” he suggests, slinging his arms around her to nuzzle it her neck from behind.

“Really?” Betty exclaims. “Now?”

“It’s your present Betts, you can do what you want with it,” Jughead says and kisses her temple affectionately. “Now what should we start with?”

She bites her lip and contemplates for a moment before saying, “We have to eat Jason first. It's only fair.”

“Betts,” he announces with a broad grin, “You read my mind.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading and I hope you all have a gorgeous, lovely and safe holiday! All the love, Georgie x x x <3


End file.
